02x07 - Corrupted Memory

[bunniefuu]

Woman: How's work, honey? Things getting better at the office?

Young woman (on screen): Mom, I don't want to talk about that. I have news.

I think Ethan's going to propose.

No.

Really?

I know. About time, right?

About time for what?

For our daughter to get engaged.

What? I don't believe it.

Hey, Ethan better beg for my permission first.

Gil!

Dad!

So, what makes you think it's gonna happen?

Did he, uh... did he ask for your ring size?

No. Just your credit card number.

(Gil laughs)

Very funny, kiddo. Nice.

You know, if I'm right, it means I can quit my job out here in Tampa and move back home to New York.

I really miss you...

Isabel?

(man yelling on screen, Isabel screaming)

Oh, my God, Gil, what is happening?!

(screaming continues)

Isabel?! Isabel?!

No, no, no, no, no, no!

No! Stop it! No! Stop it! Stop it! No! Stop it! Stop it!

No! No! Izzy! No!

No! (sobbing) Is... No! No! Izzy! Izzy!

(sobbing)

Gil: Stop!

(distant boat horn blows)

(distant phone ringing, indistinct conversations)

Ryan: This is all I could find.

It's your turn, Tristan.

Just take your time.

Try to describe exactly what you saw.

(sighs)

He... he-he k*lled Isabel.

He? You saw his face?

No. I, uh...

I don't know. I don't think so.

But you know it was a male?

No, I...

I guess not. I...

I don't know why I said that.

Is it bright in here to you?

That better?

Yes. Thanks.

Okay.

Let's go back again, to the beginning.

Tell me what you do remember.

Let's start with where you were when it happened.

(sighs)

I was, um, in my apartment, sitting at my desk.

I live across the courtyard.

And, um...

(sighs)

I'm sorry. I don't know why... I can't remember.

I am trying. It's just a blur.

Okay, it's a blur.

Hey, just take your time.

There is one-one thing.

She was smiling.

Police officers said they found you in the courtyard.

Sir? Sir, are you okay?

(whimpering, gasping)

I need ESU at 1298 Horizon Court.

I saw him. He k*lled Isabel.

Male (over radio): Uh, 271. Roger that.

Do you remember saying that to the police officer?

(engine revving)

(siren wails in distance, indistinct radio communication)

I need to get in there!

Uh-uh. Uh-uh.

Processed only evidence that couldn't wait for your arrival, and left all electronic devices for your team.

Heard police found a ski mask. In a puddle.

Any trace of DNA would've been compromised by the muddy water.

And we don't often tag team with Cyber so quickly.

You guys usually come later.

So, what's so special about this m*rder?

Tampa PD called us in to recover artifacts from a video-chat.

Our best sh*t of identifying our k*ller might exist on the victim's computer.

Whole thing was captured on WeDial.

(camera shutter clicking)

Russell: Lacerations on her face and neck.

Defensive wounds on her arms.

Several s*ab wounds to her chest and her back.

Bled out within minutes.

First responders said that they found her posed like this, with her hands on her thighs, palms up, and they said that her face was covered.

That indicates the k*ller felt remorse.

Russell: Right.

Also suggests that our victim knew her k*ller.

There's your computer.

Her name's Isabel.

Her parents are on a flight here right now.

Ramirez: Oh, I can't imagine witnessing your own daughter's m*rder on a video-chat.

Or at all, for that matter.

No. I can't, either.

Okay, so, evidently, the k*ller slammed the laptop down by the lid after he was finished with Isabel.

Any chance that he left any fingerprints?

Mundo: Unfortunately, it doesn't look like it.

All these swirl patterns look the same.

Which means they belong to our victim.

Okay.

Yeah, all right.

It's all yours, Raven.

Want me to open it for you?

No! Don't kid about that.

Why can't you open it?

Ramirez: I need to recover a hibernation file.

Mundo: Whenever you close a computer without shutting it down, it goes into hibernation mode.

All the programs and applications that were running on it are then written to the hard drive in a hibernation file.

And it'll take longer to access Isabel's video chat if we were to open it.

Russell: All right, get to it.

That file could lead us to the identity of our k*ller.

I'm downloading the file.

Nelson and Krumitz should have it any minute now.

Nelson: Ooh! Isabel Stanworth's computer is infested with malware.

I mean, it's gonna take a while to untangle all of this.

(phone buzzing) Not to mention someone had remote access to our victim's laptop camera.

Krumitz, you see that?

What?

What are you doing?

Stopping the download. I saw something.

What?!

That.

They-they... they wouldn't even let us go in the apartment.

We haven't even had a chance to see her!

No, sir.

I-I, I know.

(sighs)

As soon as we're finished here, a police officer's gonna escort you to the medical examiner's office.

Thank you, but we have a ride.

Uh, Isabel's boss, Neil, is a family friend.

She moved to Tampa to work for his company.

Do you know who did this to my daughter?

No, sir, we don't, but we're gonna do everything in our power to find out.

There's another witness?

Yes.

A Tristan Jenkins.

Neighbor or friend?

Oh.

You know him?

No.

Just nice to know she had a friend out... outside of work.

Isabel just moved here.

I-I understand this is very difficult, but sir, I-I need both of you to tell me everything you saw.

Okay.

Okay, um...

We were just...

We were just talking to Isabel.

Gil: Did he ask for your ring size?

No. Just your credit card number.

(laughs) Very funny, kiddo-- nice.

She was very happy.

She was...

(crying)

I'm so sorry.

Georgia: Uh, at first, I didn't know what I was seeing.

Isabel?

I really miss you guys.

(screaming)

But then I realized that her screams were real, and that it was Isabel's blood that splattered on the screen.

Georgia: Isabel!

Isabel!

(grunting) Stop it! No!

Stop it! No, no! Izzy! No!

Izzy!

(crying): No!

Stop!

I, uh... I saw a figure, and he had a Kn*fe in his hand.

(Isabel's screams echoing)

He stabbed her several times.

I was going to stop it, but he was wearing a mask.

Officers on the scene found that ski mask in the courtyard of the building.

Isabel's k*ller removed the mask.

Do you remember his face?

I think he turned away.

Close your eyes... just for a second.

He was running down the stairs.

You were in the courtyard.

He was just ahead of you.

He pulled off his mask. Now just focus on his face.

Look at his chin.

I want you to tell me color of his...

No!

(panting)

I told you I don't re... I don't remember.

I'm sorry. I wish I could be more helpful than this.

I'm just wasting your time.

All right, we'll take a break.

(sighs heavily)

Tristan, you are our only eyewitness.

So, how's it going in there?

I'm not sure.

Tristan Jenkins definitely saw something.

He seems to be suffering from post traumatic stress disorder and repressed memories.

A result of witnessing Isabel's m*rder.

He claims he can't recall details of the crime.

I'm not sure he even remembers calling 911.

Do you think he might be lying to you?

He's very fragile.

I'm not sure that it's all related to this crime.

But there's nothing in his behavior or demeanor that indicate to me the he's fabricating his story.

But?

But there's definitely something else he is not telling us.

(Isabel screaming)

♪ CSI Cyber 2x07 ♪
Corrupted Memory
Original Air Date on November 15, 2015

♪ I know you've deceived me, now here's a surprise ♪
♪ I know that you have, 'cause there's magic in my eyes ♪
♪ I can see for miles and miles ♪
♪ I can see for miles and miles ♪
♪ I can see for miles and miles ♪
♪ And miles... ♪
♪ Oh, yeah. ♪

I'm sorry. Explain again.

Why am I doing this?

I need you to overcome your situation-specific amnesia in order to remember the k*ller's face.

But these are all men in Isabel's life.

The way her body was posed at the scene suggested that the k*ller was someone she knew.

So, look at each of these photos and tell me who these men are.

(sighs)

Ethan's her boyfriend. They laughed a lot.

Neil's her boss.

He was like an older brother.

If anyone loves finance more than Isabel, it's Neil.

He helped her adjust to Tampa.

Please, I-I don't want to do this anymore.

She's your friend.

We need your help to find Isabel's k*ller.

Tristan.

(sighs)

Zach's her cousin.

He was thrilled that she moved closer to him, but they didn't see each other much.

Larry's the building super.

He fixes things for everybody.

I don't recognize any of these people as the k*ller!

Please, I don't feel very well.

Okay, Tristan, hey... breathe, breathe.

We just have to get to what you saw.

Then all of this will be over.

Krumitz: I think I'm close, Nelson.

Just might have found the device that put malware on Isabel's laptop.

(phone buzzing)

(sighs)

(exhales)

You gonna answer that?

Nope. Unknown callers, blocked numbers, anyone who doesn't leave a message, I do not pick up and I do not call back.

Yeah, but that person's persistent-- they really want to talk to you.

That's the fourth call this morning.

How do you even know those four calls are the same person?

I can tell by the buzz.

Get out of here. (laughs)

Can you?

Yeah.

Same person, I'm telling you. I have the ear.

And I have the answer.

Look at this.

Got a serial number from one of the devices that put malware on Isabel's computer.

Man, I am really pumping on all cylinders today. (laughs)

Whoo! High five. Mm.

(phone buzzing)

Wow.

Raven: I'm searching the last device now.

(tapping keys)

Ramirez: Hey, guys.

The serial number you found doesn't match any of the devices in Isabel's apartment.

Something's put malware on her computer.

Maybe someone slipped in a thumb drive while she was working in a public place.

I checked the USB log-- that same device has been plugged into Isabel's computer several times over the past four months.

It's got to be a device she owns.

(beeping)

Okay, okay...

Whoa, wait a minute.

Krummy, check this out.

I think I identified what we're looking for.

No.

Oh, yeah.

Guys?

Oh, yeah.

(chuckling)

Guys, hello? What is it?

Um...

Raven, uh, I think the device you're looking for is probably in the bedroom.

Oh, my gosh.

Hey, yo, you should look in her nightstand drawer, all the way in the back.

Just look all the way in the back. (laughs)

(electronic buzzing)

Raven: It's a sex toy.

Mundo: It's a sex toy in a Faraday bag.

That thing is connected to the Internet?

You are looking at the device that loaded malware on Isabel's laptop.

Gives new meaning to the word “sexually transmitted.”

Look, it's thirsty.

(laughter)

Stop it!

(woman moaning)

Female narrator: There's no greater pleasure on earth than that of two people becoming one.

But what if the Earth literally comes between you and your significant other?

Introducing Teledildonics.

(couple moaning)

Technology that allows couples in long-distance relationships to share all the sensations of sex in real time, no matter how many miles separate them.

(Ryan laughs)

Okay, so what he does in Dublin she feels in Duluth, I guess.

Talk about the Internet of things.

I got a buddy who swears this saved his marriage while he was deployed.

A “buddy,” huh?

All right, so Isabel and her boyfriend Ethan used this toy to continue their sexual relationship after she moved to Tampa for work.

The sensations of sex sent over the Internet.

We've come so far.

I'm sure Nelson can hook you up with someone who would be happy to give it a try.

I beg your pardon?

Mundo: All right, NYPD just officially dismissed Isabel's boyfriend, Ethan Parker, as a suspect.

Looks like security footage confirmed his story-- he was in a diner on the upper West Side at the time of the m*rder.

Ramirez: Guys, check this out.

These Wi-Fi toys log a ton of information during “partner plays”" including the number of devices linked.

Yeah, but there's three.

Ménage à trois?

Every time Isabel and her boyfriend did the deed, this third device came online.

Location unknown.

Wait, so you're saying... somebody h*jacked Isabel's wireless sex signal and was... what, watching?

Ramirez: Well, not exactly.

The third device is another toy, receiving all of the outgoing data from Isabel, and sent its own data back to her toy... allowing him remote participation.

This is cyber r*pe... that escalated.

At first, this digital three-way aroused our third party, but eventually, his appetite for contact would have increased until only real-world contact would have satisfied him.

Isabel's r*pist might also be her k*ller.

Russell: Hey, guys?

Trace that third device.

Russell: Change of subject here, but... the blood in our k*ller's mouth...

Mundo: It's arterial spray from our victim.

You could tell by the directionality of the blood on his mask.

Right, right, but nobody likes that much blood in their mouth.

No, you're right-- he would have spit it out.

So somewhere at our crime scene, our k*ller left his DNA.

Raven, looks like you're on loogie duty.

♪ ♪

There it is.

♪ ♪

Krumitz: Guy at the store said our victim's sex toy of choice is dishwasher-safe, it syncs with any music library, and has a “solo session” mode.

Krummy, you know, man, what is all of this stuff?

Oh, I... well, I felt awkward carrying the thing up to the counter, so I bought some decoy items.

Camouflage.

Buying a sex toy was awkward... but the lingerie was totally natural?

Well, now...

(awkward chuckle)

(computer beeps)

Uh... the sex toy I bought also has malware on it.

Nelson: What?

I'm gonna send everything I got over to that laptop.

Bring up the malware analysis Raven did on Isabel's toy.

Okay, now, this is weird.

The malware on the toy you bought is identical to the malware on Isabel's.

Isabel bought hers in Tampa, and I bought mine in DC.

Mm-hmm.

Supply-chain injection.

Black hats are always trying to figure out new ways to get their malware into the wild.

Okay, so what you're saying is that our target compromised. these devices where they were built.

Yep.

Okay.

Isabel's toy was infected before she opened the box.

(phone ringing) I'm gonna send the warehouse address to Elijah.

Go for Krummy.

Nelson, you got a visitor downstairs.

Well, look at you.

Baby bro at the FBI. (chuckles)

Why are you here, Jordan?

All right, straight to it.

Uh, been trying to call you all morning.

I thought you might pick up if you didn't know it was me.

Yeah, well, life's full of disappointment.

Look, I know things aren't great between us... but we are family.

And I'm here because I need a favor.

Oh, okay, so I guess we're only family when you need a favor.

Look, Brody, this is important.

Okay? I think the FBI's investigating one of my firm's clients.

Money laundering.

Okay, you want me to do what, exactly?

I just need to know if it's true.

So I can get out ahead of it.

Is that all you need?

I ain't seen you in two years, and you just waltz in here like we're close.

Do you remember the last time we spoke?

The day of my arrest, when I made bail, and I caught that cab down to your office?

And I begged you to represent me in court, I begged you.

Do you remember what you told me?

Yes, I...

“Can't help you, Brody. You're on your own”.

And then you pointed to the door, man.

(sighs)

Brody...

I'm sorry.

Okay?

Yes, I made a mistake.

But I need you now.

Hm.

This could be bad.

Brody, I am your brother, okay?

I need your help on this one.

(sighs) I can't help you, Jordan.

You're on your own.

Ryan: I really appreciate your help.

It means a lot to me and Isabel's family.

Georgia and Gil are here?

Yes, they are.

You can imagine how upset they are.

But let's talk about your best friend.

Tell me about Isabel.

We, uh... we had a lot in common.

We liked the same Chinese food, takeout Tuesday...

(chuckles)

Neither of us had much family in town, so weekends were movie marathons.

Usually animated movies.

Sounds like you two were very close.

She loved painting.

She introduced me to it.

You mentioned your family.

Mm-hmm.

My mom and dad are still married.

My sister goes to Florida, a junior. Uh, my brother just had a baby.

Grandma d*ed a few years ago, but Grandpa just... won't give up the house.

He loved her so much.

He can't even replace the glasses Grandma bought him, no matter how many times they break.

He just uses masking tape to hold them together. (laughs)

Gil and Georgia.

Isabel's parents.

Mm.

You refer to them by their first name.

But they don't know you.

Of course they don't.

Why would Isabel talk about me when... she's in a long-distance relationship with Ethan?

With all the time that we spent together, I mean, what would they think?

Just spoke to Elijah.

He arrested the perv that intruded into Isabel's sex device.

Thanks for running.

Guy's guilty of a whole lot of hacking, not m*rder.

But there is a silver lining. Elijah sent us the sex toy source code.

Nelson: Oh, snap!

That allows us to eliminate the sex toy intrusion.

Exactly. I just sent it to you.

Okay, cool.

Wait, Krummy, you seeing this?

That says someone else hacked into Isabel's video-chat program WeDial.

Yeah, but not on Isabel's computer.

This black hat managed to hack the whole WeDial network itself.

Krumitz: Are you kidding me?

Our target can intrude on anyone's video chat around the world.

Nelson, we just uncovered the most massive digital invasion of privacy ever.

So our black hat didn't target Isabel specifically, at least not at first.

He hacked the entire WeDial network.

He bundled his malware with a video chat software update.

So any user who installed the update was instantly violated by the target and knew absolutely nothing about it.

Any time they started a video chat, their conversations were redirected through the target's computer, allowing him to eavesdrop.

All right, this is voyeurism.

I mean, not in a classic sense.

But our target is a cyber voyeur who became obsessed with Isabel after watching her on a computer and realized he couldn't have a relationship with Isabel in the real world, and ultimately k*lled her.

Right, but if he didn't... if he didn't actually know her, then why'd he pose her body?

Well, because, after so many hours of spying on her video chats, our target felt like he knew her.

And it doesn't seem like a coincidence that she was exploited by two completely unconnected hackers-- sex toy sicko and our-our WeDial voyeur?

No.

Isabel was a high-risk victim.

Think about it. Here's this attractive young woman, living in a new town, missing her family back home.

Her virtual sex play was an attempt to fill an emotional void that was created by geographic separation.

Internet-enabled intimacy.

Well, this very specific type of online risk-taking attracts a very specific type of deviant sexual predator.

Think I know how to find our k*ller's computer.

Good. Because I can't find any of his digital dust in the WeDial network.

Well, that's the beauty of this.

We don't need to find it. We're gonna be led right there.

I infected this laptop with the WeDial malware, so... all we need to do is start a video chat and our conversation will be immediately intercepted by the target's machine.

We'll get his IP address.

Mad props, Krummy.

Well, I have my moments.

Okay. I'm starting a video chat between you and Raven.

All right.

Say hi and then mute your side.

We can't have the target listening in.

All right.

Raven knows she's got to do all the yakking.

Krumitz: All right, we're in.

Our target's computer is now watching our live chat.

Hey, Raven, how you doing?

Krumitz: Okay, our target's computer is intercepting our video feed.

Got him. He's in Chicago.

Wait, wait, wait.

IP's in Singapore...

Now it's in the Ukraine... Malaysia...

They're decoys.

He's rolling his IP address.

We're never gonna find our target this way.

(phone buzzing)

(phone buzzing)

(Krumitz groans)

I can see our target's computer online.

But because of the rolling IP, it means I can never find the physical address.

Yeah, but somewhere in the world that computer does exist.

Solid chance it's hooked up to Wi-Fi.

Nelson, why do I feel like you're about to be brilliant?

Only because I am.

Yesterday, we infected ourselves with the target's malware, which means our video chats pass through his computer.

We can communicate with the computer we can't find.

So even though I can't locate his computer, we can still send his computer an executable.

Uh-huh.

A Wi-Fi sniffing program hidden in a video chat.

Hey, Krumitz, you there?

Krumitz: It'll sniff out and locate all the other Wi-Fi signals in the area that aren't hidden.

We'll identify enough nearby Wi-Fi networks, cross-reference their locations and finally find the unfindable computer.

Nelson, I could kiss you right now.

No, no.

Come on.

No. Keep your lips to yourself, Casanova, okay?

Matter of fact, I'll ping the target computer and meet you back at CTOC.

(grunts)

All right, listen up, minions.

Every time we detect a Wi-Fi network with a recognizable name that our target computer has connected with, I'll call it out.

You flag the physical location and that should get us to our target's computer.

Woman: Okay, got it.

Man: All right.

All right, we got Dora's Coffee Shop and Tamale Zone.

Locate all areas where these two establishments are near each other.

Sammy's Dry Cleaners and Irving Grille, okay?

Narrow it down, people.

This should be getting us closer.

How many Wi-Fi networks we got?

Uh, four.

No, wait-- five.

Man: Fort Lauderdale...

Nelson: Got another one.

Not a business.

This one's called Izzy's Crib.

Wait, what?

Izzy's Crib is the name of Isabel Stanworth's home network.

“Izzy” as in Isabel, but-but that would mean the target and Isabel are neighbors.

Krummy, they are.

The MAC addresses match.

Our target uses the same Internet provider as Isabel.

Okay, I'll use the Wi-Fi networks' signal strength to triangulate the exact location of the target's computer in Isabel's neighborhood.

Our target is Tristan Jenkins.

Tristan.

I want to play you something.

Tristan: You have to help her. Please, please!

(phone buzzes)

Someone has to help her. He's stabbing her!

He's k... he's k*lling her!

Please, help! Please!

Turn it off, now!

We are gonna push through this. Right now.

He was attacking her. You rushed to help.

He was exiting the apartment, he pulled the mask off.

Who was he?

Who k*lled Isabel?

(phone line ringing)

Damn it, Avery, pick up.

I can't get D.B. on his cell.

(phone buzzing)

I shouldn't have come here. I shouldn't have come here. I'm no help at all. This was a mistake. This was a mistake!

I need to use the restroom.

(line ringing)

Come on, Raven, pick up.

(phone buzzing)

Krumitz, why do you keep blowing up...

Raven, Raven, stop talking, just listen.

Avery, Tristan Jenkins is the target.

What?

He was behind the WeDial intrusion.

He wouldn't say who was under the mask because it was him.

Come on.

FBI!

Clear.

FBI!

Clear!

Clear!

This is Special Agent Avery Ryan.

We have a suspect fleeing.

Tristan Jenkins, five-foot-ten, Caucasian, brown hair.

I need him detained.

Tristan Jenkins, five-foot-ten, Caucasian, brown hair.

(siren wails, tires screech)

Man (over radio): Car 1, go, go!

FBI!

Tristan Jenkins, FBI!

Go right!

Tristan Jenkins!

All clear!

Federal agents!

(indistinct radio communications)

It's all clear.

(indistinct radio chatter)

Isabel's apartment.

Everything Tristan told me about his friendship with Isabel he learned by eavesdropping on her WeDial video chat.

The painting, the Chinese dinner... all that happened while she was video chatting with someone else.

Isabel: Maybe I'll fly home and visit over the long weekend.

It would be nice to spend a night in my old room.

Tristan: We liked the same Chinese food. Takeout Tuesday. So weekends were movie marathons-- usually animated movies.

...skip the games and ask her out already.

Can't get the color of the ocean right.

You'll look at the ocean...

Tristan: She loved painting. She introduced me to it.

...painting and you realize it's actually a million...

This is like a Cyber version of that movie Rear Window.

But, so, they never actually met?

The way he's profiling, no, not in the real world.

Tristan's PTSD masked more serious behavior: Technology Facilitative Social Isolation.

He basically lived his whole life in this apartment.

That explains all the eggs we found in the refrigerator.

Probably wasn't getting enough Vitamin D from the sun.

Sounds like agoraphobia.

No. Agoraphobia is an anxiety disorder-- a fear of being in a situation where you feel helpless or trapped.

Tristan's isolation was not born of fear, but of dependence.

Technology provided him with everything that he needed.

He became addicted to experiencing the world online and over time, the only time he felt safe or comfortable was behind a computer screen.

I bet the first time he saw Isabel was when she moved into this apartment building.

He used his WeDial exploit to find her and then eavesdrop on her.

What drove him to m*rder?

Primal urge.

As his obsession grew, he overcame his self-imposed isolation.

So he forced himself out his door, into her apartment, carved her up while she video-chatted with her parents.

It's looking that way.

And if so, Tristan didn't collapse because he witnessed a m*rder.

He was overwhelmed by sensory overload when he committed m*rder and left this apartment.

(phone chimes)

All right, text from Russell.

“Our k*ller's saliva is not in any law enforcement database.”

Well, that makes sense.

If he hasn't left this place in years, he hasn't had the opportunity to commit a previous crime.

Can you grab one of Tristan Jenkins' toothbrushes and get it to D.B. Russell in the field office?

Look, a simple DNA test should tell us if Tristan's our k*ller.

Yeah, but with ten monitors?

I mean, he's probably watching more than just Isabel.

We gotta find this guy quickly and put some cuffs on him.

Krumitz: Just heard from Raven.

She's downloading Tristan's computer.

Hey, man...

You cool?

Yeah.

You didn't eat the trout in the commissary, did you?

No.

Um... let me ask you a question.

If you were given opportunity to help Francine before she got in trouble, would you have?

I'd have done anything to help her.

Anything.

Yeah.

All right.

Ramirez: Avery?

I think I got something here.

Okay, I've been going through Tristan's computer.

I found online orders, message board posts, nothing special, but then I found this.

Are we live?

No. These are recordings.

Eight terabytes worth, over 100 hours of video.

I'm thinking Tristan captured every WeDial session that came through his machine.

Wait a second.

There's laughter, a birthday, a grandfather.

These are all happy moments.

So, Tristan's doing what?

Collecting happy moments from his victims' lives?

Tristan: My mom and dad are still married.

My sister goes to Florida. She's a junior.

Oh, my brother just had a baby.

Grandma d*ed a few years ago, but he loved her so much.

He can't even replace the glasses Grandma bought him, no matter how many times they break.

There's a generational mix.

These people aren't his victims.

They're his family.

That's why I didn't read that Tristan was lying.

Tristan so fully believes his delusion that he thinks he's telling the truth.

Ramirez: Tristan thinks this collection of random strangers are his loved ones?

To him, they aren't random strangers.

They are his family.

(phone buzzes)

Russell.

Okay, Avery, I just got the DNA results back from Tristan's toothbrush.

It's not a match to the saliva samples we got from the crime scene.

He's not Isabel's k*ller.

All right, so Tristan did not brave the outside world to k*ll Isabel.

But he knew that she was being m*rder*d, because he was eavesdropping on her WeDial session.

He saw exactly what her parents saw.

Isabel: My job out here...

Ryan: He did everything he could to get her help without leaving his apartment.

(dialing phone)

Man: 911. Please state your emergency.

He's stabbing her! Please, help! Help!

And then when he realized the police were not gonna get there in time, he did the only thing he could.

He overcame his fears and stepped outside to help.

But if Tristan's innocent, then, you know, why'd he run?

Ryan: You know, the last time we spoke, I think he might have recalled the k*ller's face.

And now he's out for revenge.

I've made up my mind.

He won't stop, so I have to stop him.

I tried to excuse it, telling myself he was just overly affectionate, but it's sexual as*ault.

I threatened to tell my father, but he wouldn't stop.

So I told him I'm going to the police.

Ramirez: I found this video journal entry on Isabel's computer.

She deleted it, and it took some time to recover.

There are no other videos like this.

She doesn't identify who she's talking about, or where the as*ault took place.

Why would she record it and then delete it?

Shame.

Changed her mind.

But Isabel had already threatened to go to the police.

This was motive.

The “he” that she talks about... was scared.

Whoever this person is, is her k*ller.

(m*rder*r grunting, Isabel screaming)

(grunting and screaming continue)

Recovered this from Tristan Jenkins' hard drive.

I had to dig through hours of footage.

This is what Isabel's mother and father witnessed.

Krumitz: Unfortunately, this video doesn't actually help us I.D. our k*ller.

Okay, all right, uh, Nelson, go back a few seconds, please.

(video rewinding)

I really miss you guys.

Russell: Right there.

Isolate that bracelet and highlight the engraving.

It's the infinity symbol.

What are you thinking?

I'm thinking that we can run a facial recognition without a face.

You guys know about ABBI?

Stands for Automated Body and Belongings Identification, right?

So we all have articles of clothing we wear so often, they become unique identifiers, like our m*rder*r's bracelet.

Well, this is great, but there's no random-stuff-we-own database to search.

You know, actually there is, and that index happens to be public and linked directly to people's names.

What is it?

350 million samples submitted every single day by the users themselves.

FriendAgenda!

Pow!

Okay, crop out the unique characteristics of our k*ller.

All right, then we write a script to crawl all FriendAgenda photos.

And if Isabel's m*rder*r is like the rest of the world, he will have posted at least one photo that will lead us to him.

52 matches in the Tampa area.

How many of them are friends with Isabel Stanworth?

Zilch.

Nelson: Zero?

The entire time I've worked here, I've never had a zero match.

Okay, okay, okay, well...

(phone buzzing)

Wait a minute.

Russell: Here we go.

All right, so, social media sites like FriendAgenda-- they-they link profiles of relatives like a family tree, right?

Krumitz: Uh, yes, yeah.

Stay-stay with me.

Yeah, yeah.

Okay, when I analyzed the saliva samples that Raven collected from the scene, the DNA gave me, what?

Age, hair color, eye color, all of that stuff, but it also gave me evidence of an inheritable genetic disease.

Where is it? Right here.

Okay, so, our k*ller has a 50% chance of inheriting Marfan Syndrome.

Okay, well, let's see if any of our 52 results have a parent that belongs to a support group on FriendAgenda.

Right.

Krumitz: Got two hits.

Bringing up the profile now.

The one on the right's our m*rder*r.

Okay.

What now?

You could have given me the heads up, man.

What are you talking about?

Talking about the FBI.

They're raiding my firm right now.

They won't even let us back in the building.

You knew that this was gonna happen, Brody, and you did nothing about it.

But I guess blood and family doesn't mean much of anything to you now?!

Look, that is not true, Jordan.

We're blood, but it wasn't me that decided we weren't family.

(phone beeps off)

(siren blaring)

Georgia: You're sure this is everything?

I think so.

But if I find anything else Isabel had here, I'll mail it to you.

She was my friend.

Get out!

Georgia: Oh, my God!

Ple-Please... please don't hurt us.

Gil, Georgia, I didn't know you'd be here.

Do... do we know you?

No, no, no, I'm not... I'm not gonna hurt you.

I'm just here for him.

He k*lled her.

What? What are you talking about?

I remember. I finally remember it.

I saw your face when you took off the ski mask!

Neil, what the hell's he talking about?

I don't know.

She was my friend, and you took her from me.

You k*lled my Isabel.

No.

Is this true, Neil?

Gil: Look at me.

Georgia: Oh, God.

Look at me, Neil.

Oh, God, Gil.

Gil: Look at me!

Elevator's not working.

Tristan must have shut them down.

He chained the stairwell, too, locked us out.

There should be an emergency ladder inside the elevator shaft.

It's not opening. Get the hydraulic spreader.

I can try to hack the elevator, get in electronically.

No, we don't have time for that.

We're gonna get to Tristan the same way he got to Isabel-- over the Internet.

Please, you don't want to do this.

Yes, I do.

You deserve to die for what you did.

You took her from me.

Ryan: Tristan, listen to me.

Isabel would not want this for you.

Shut up!

You don't know what she would have wanted!

You didn't know her like I did!

No one did.

Ryan: No, you're right.

Nobody knew her like you did.

She shared all her secrets with you.

But what about the rest of your family?

Your grandpa.

Your brother with the new baby.

Your sister in college.

Tristan, if you do this, you will lose them all forever.

Put the g*n down, Tristan.

Put it down and keep living for your family.

That is what Isabel would want.

(crying)

Mundo: Tristan Jenkins, hands in the air!

Hands in the air, on the ground now!

Get on the ground!

You stay right there.

(Tristan whimpers, sobs)

Georgia: Gil! Gil! (sobbing): Oh, my God.

Mundo: Drop it.

Ryan: What's happening?

(crying): Oh, my God! Gil!

(Georgia sobbing deeply, sobs echoing)

Mundo (echoing): Take him away.

(echoing): EMT, Tampa Capital, top floor.

(indistinct radio transmission)

Wait...

Tristan.

I didn't know Gil was gonna be here.

I was supposed to k*ll Neil.

Me, not him.

She's gone.

She's gone, and I can never have her back.

Tristan... I don't even know if you can understand this, but you are gonna be brought up on charges, too.

(siren whoops in distance)

Isabel would have liked you.